


Disenchanted

by BananaOctopus



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Adventure, Chrollo being like a brother????, Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Nen, Smart Children, Some Humor, but im not that funny, but like, gon being cute, i know what????, kids being kids, sad kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaOctopus/pseuds/BananaOctopus
Summary: The cord around her ties tighter and tighter with every memory remembered.She looks down at the grave of her friend, with mud on her pants and the strong sent of iron under her nose."Do you want to be alone?"The cord snaps.
Relationships: Genei Ryodan | Phantom Troupe & Original Character(s), Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Original Female Character(s), Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer & Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s) & Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	Disenchanted

Dirty.

Dirty, thirsty, and hungry. Those were the only words running through the girls mind as she scavenged through pits of miscellaneous garbage with dirty, pudgy hands on raw, bony knees. Desperate to find anything that would help her. She brushed away absentmindedly a tangled strand into her nest of nape-length hair, so full of dirt you couldn't even tell the natural colour of it.

The sun bared down on her red, sensitive back; peeling, burning away at her flesh. Hot was another word added to her mind, repeating it over and over, like a wish hoping to be fulfilled if she just said it enough. Dirty, thirsty, hungry, _hothotHOT_.

She knew what would happen if she didn't find food or water soon. She would become like that boy she saw on the way to where she was now. Lying still in the sand with chapped lips, burnt flesh and gummy eyes, all seeing yet blind. Like the fish she tried to steal from the merchants before they caught her and beat her, screaming not to come back again.

She didn't want to become like that fish-eyed boy.

She continued digging through the scraps, her hands began to bleed but she gave it no attention, searching, searching, hoping.

"You've been goin' at it for like, an hour. I don't think there's anything there for you."

She shoots her head up at the voice, alert and ready. Her sight is a little blurry from the crust in her eyes. She moves her hand to rub it away.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Don't touch your fuckin' eyes with your dirty ass hands! You tryin' to get an infection or 'summin?" The voice grabs her hand, kneeling down in front of her and pulling a clean cloth from his pocket. He tries to move the cloth to her face. It scares her; she tries to slap him away, but he grabs that hand too.

"I'm not gonna hurt 'ya, I'm just gonna clean that gunk outta your eyes, ok? It won't hurt." She nods hesitantly, and he lets go of her hands. Moving the cloth towards her again, slower this time.

 _It's soft_ , she wonders to herself as he rubs her eyes—not the cloth, it's itchy—but she's never been touched by anyone like this before. In a way that doesn't hurt. She likes it she thinks.

"You were watching me for an hour?" She asks, not accusing, nor angry. Just curious. Regardless of that fact the voice sounds sheepish when he answers, "I saw you hear about an hour ago while I was goin' to the market, then when I came back you were still here."

"Oh," should she have felt embarrassed?

"There. See not so bad, huh?" Looking at him, she can tell he's older than her, much older. Not adult old, more like the kind of old where he'd be playing kick the can with others like him. His skin is the colour of sand, his hair like wet mud, but shaggy, and eyes as sharp as broken glass. Tall and wiry; thin, but not starving thin; where you can see his skeleton through his skin, and a bloated stomach. Because of that fact, he's better off than most in Meteor City.

His clothes wear better too, beige cotton shirt and pants—she thinks they might've been white once. Nothing like the peanut brown burlap sacks others had to scavenge and cut holes through with chipped knives to make clothing. He had sandales, and she looked down at her scratched and calloused bare feet.

She looked up at him again, "are you a merchant's boy?" That was the only explanation she had for why he looked the way he did.

He laughed, a bark of a thing, "na, I ain't no merchant's kid—I'm like you," she made a disbelieving face, he laughed again, "—no it's true, I'm just a big-brained badass s'all."

"Yeah, ok." She didn't know what a 'big-brained badass' was—or a lot of what he said meant, but she thought he was kind of full of himself.

"Hey what's with the tone? It's true y'know! I got by all on my own, no help required. That's a big accomplishment for most, I'm even doing better than most adults!"

"What's an 'accomplishment'?"

"What's an accomp—how old are you kid?" He asked with disbelief.

She shrugged, "I dunno, does it matter?"

He looks at the dirty little girl at his feet, and his mouth puckers. He takes in the wild hair, the freshly scabbed hands, sun-burnt shoulders, and big vacant coal coloured eyes.

"You look four, do you remember your birthday?"

"What's a birthday?"

" _Oh my God_ , you know what, just come with me, I'll clean you up and show you how to get food." He gets up and moves to grab her hand, she lets him drag her away from the garbage, because he was as gentle as his voice grating.

"You got a name?" He asks as they walk.

"No."

He sighs, "we'll figure that out later I guess. I'm Duane." The girl notices a piece of metal in his ear, she wonders if it hurts as much as it looks.

"Where are we going?"

"My little hideout, it's got water and stuff so I can give you a bath—'cus you smell like shit. And you're so gross looking too, how the hell did you not get an infection for 'summin?"

"What's an infection?"

"...How are you still alive?"

————————  
Duane did end up giving her a bath. He had a basin of water that he scooped into a chipped neon-pink plastic pail that he took and cleaned from the wasteland and pored it onto her head while she sat on a stool. Washing away the earth from her body and hair, leaving brown puddles underneath her as he cleaned. He pulled out a small smooth white brick that she's never seen before.

"What?" Duane guffawed, and stared at his new charge incredulity when she asked what the brick was for, "this is soap! Oh my God, when was the last time you had a proper bath?!"

The girl frowned, a little offended, "I wash when it rains, where else am I supposed to?"

Duane raised an eyebrow, there was a little scar separating the end of it from the rest, "no wonder you smelt like flaming hot garbage, you were practically burning in the sun."

She felt her cheeks puff up in anger, and snapped her head to the side in a huff. Her wet hair whipped across Duane's face accidentally and he gave a slight yelp in surprise, he fell into the dirt water on the ground.

The girl stared at him for a moment, and felt something in her throat bubble from her stomach, the muscles on her face twisted in a way that she wasn't used to. She laughed and tinkling sound, like a bag full of coins, or how one would imagine a pixie.

Duane pored water on her head again, effectively stopping her laugher as water got stuck in her throat.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up garbage fairy," he mocked, but there was a smile on his face too.

———————

"Are you sure you're not a merchant's boy?" The girl would ask a few days later, a large cotton shirt covering her body like a dress, sitting between Duane's legs comfortably as he brushed out her short hair on his thin cot. She stared at the few books thrown about in the small hideaway, and hissed a little when his wooden comb pulled at a snag. Her hair, Duane told her, was the colour of dried cranberries, a deep and rich red.

_("Do cranberries taste good?" She asked after he told her._

_He put his chin on his hand and thought about it for a moment. "'Naw, I don't like fresh fruits 'cus when they come in they ain't really fresh, y'know?" She didn't, "You'd probably like dried fruits though, they taste like candy."_

_Her eyes widened and she looked back at him in awe, "you've had candy before?"_

_Duane smiled sardonically, "yeah, it was like a lifetime ago.")_

She'd only known Duane for a few days, but she knew he was really smart. But also really weird too. While she stayed at his hideaway he went out and stole food and juices from the merchants, and he'd never get caught. Which was weird, because there's so many people guarding the merchants items, so how could a kid like him get through?

"No, I ain't no merchants boy. I thought I already told you that?"

The girl frowned, confused, "then how come you got books?"

"I stole them."

"But can you _read_ them?"

Duane looked at her like she questioned his intelligence, "yeah, 'course I can read! Why else would I have books?! For show?"

"But how? Who taught you?"

Duane's face twisted like he ate something bad, "the merchants." He muttered.

The girl jumped up and turned around, facing him, "so you are a merchants boy!" She accused, pointing a finger in his face.

"I'M NOT!" Duane shouted, his earth brown eyes looked dark, and his face twisted into a deep scowl. He didn't move from his seat, but his fist was clenched so tight around the wooden comb she thought it would snap. She wondered detachedly he imagined her neck around his grip instead of the comb.

 _"I'm not."_ He said again, soft like a whisper, but his expression spoke of angered grief. He looked at her and whatever he saw in her expression made him loose all his fire, his anger fizzled out like a blown out candle.

The girl swallowed, "sorry," she said in a meek voice. She chewed on her lip.

Duane reached out his hand of her but pulled it back in an aborted motion. The sun was beating down on Meteor City and left sweat down their backs, yet the air was frigid.

Duane ducked his head to look down at his feet, then he stood up like a spring from his spot so suddenly that the girl flinched. He ignored this, and with determined eyes he jerkily walked to the other side of the hideaway and crouched down to a book, staring at it's hardcover with a thoughtful expression.

"Do ya know how to read?" He asked, not looking up from the book.

She frowned sullenly, "no, why would I?"

Duane picked up the book and showed it to her. The cover had the drawing of a woman with saffron yellow hair, and a silk dress like the merchants wives wear—though they were not nearly as pretty as the girl in the drawing. She was surrounded by green wires that had shapes that looked like weirdly shaped eyes, ("steams, leaves, and flower petals," Duane would tell her one day, sorrow hidden by mirth in his eyes and he looked at her, then he would coughandcoughandcough—) the book had squiggles at the top in pretty shapes.

"You wanna learn?"

_(Later, she would know that the book was called Fairytales and Mythology, and it would get her though the darkest period of her life)_

—————————

The three months that went by were a blur for the girl.

Every morning Duane would wake her up and brush out her tangles with his wooden comb. He would then take out a thick clear paste from a metal tin that smelt like the strong menthol of an old trader's chewing gum and rub it on her hands and feet.

_("What's it for?" She asked when he told her to put it on._

_He grinned, "I nicked it from the market from this fat healer guy."_

_She rolled her eyes, "but what's it for?"_

_He grabbed her feet and rubbed the paste into the skin, "your feet hurt right? From the cuts and burns on the ground? Well this is for that, don't want ya getting crippled cus you can't walk no more or 'summin. Same for your hands too."_

_She made a face like he was stupid, "but I don't walk on my hands."_

_Duane's eyebrow twitched, "brat," he muttered to himself, but then he got a wicked idea and grinned at her._

_"What?" She raised an eyebrow._

_He tickled her feet and she screamed in delightful joy.)_

_When her feet and hands dried he would guide her to the market, and they (or he, more like) would steal anything that was valuable or they would get their hands on. Meats, liquids, clothes, coins, books. They would stuff the goods in their shirts or pockets and leave as quickly and quietly as they came, almost like they had never been there in the first place._

_("How come they never catch us?" She would always ask, staring moving her eyes back and forth between products._

_Duane would tap at his eyes, "these eyes know," he would say, and she would always pull a face at him because— "you're so weird!" She would giggle.)_

When they got back to the hideaway she would sit between Duane's legs and he'd trace the letters of Fairytales and Mythology, with her finger and sound out every letter. So far they'd gone through Daedalus and Icarus, and Pandora's Box. She likes the pictures more than the actual words. Though, she did think that Duane's girl voices were kinda funny. In a stupid way.

"She turns into a walnut tree?"

"Yeah it's a stupid power I know, but hey, the God of wine likes her so she must be cool."

The girl looks up at Duane, charcoal eyes flat in disapproval, "that was lame, even for you."

Duane flicks her forehead and she yelps, "Ow!" She tries to swat him, but he dodges.

The boy snickers and gets a thoughtful expression on his face, "but you know... walnuts aren't that bad. And she seems like a nice lady."

The little girl's eyes become curious, past annoyance gone; "what do walnut trees look like? Are the leaves made of walnuts?"

He shakes his head, "Naw, I think they just look like regular trees, green and shit." He looks at her hair and gets a wicked smile. "But you know," he blows a piece of brown hair away from his face and continues, "when your hair's wet it looks like a red walnut, y'know."

"Don't be dumb, walnuts are brown, not red."

"They can be though! I'll show you next time we go out ok? But that's besides the point."

She raises an eyebrow.

"You still don't have a name, and it's been bugging the shit outta me, I can't just call you 'hey you' forever y'know!"

"So you wanna name me after walnut girl?" She asks with minor apprehension

"Do you care?" He asks back.

she thinks about it for a moment, "no, not really."

He smiles, "ok, Carya it is."

She smiles too.

**Author's Note:**

> I also have this on my wattpad @Sarudoshi.
> 
> I’ve never posted a story on ao3 before but lets see how this goes lmao. This is the first fic I’ve ever written so much for in one sitting, and I’m lovin’ it 😎
> 
> Unedited because I’m lazy 😭


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